The Serpent's Badger
by HogwartsAlumni726
Summary: Muggleborn Jessica Seek suddenly finds herself falling head first into a new land of magic, wonder, and mystery. Pureblood Augustine Thornfield has always known his place in the wizarding community, though he harbors secret doubts about the last Wizarding War and his family's role in it. Once violence has been allowed to prevail, can peace ever truly follow? T b/c I'm paranoid.
1. To Platform 9 and 3 4

A/N: It has been an extremely long time since I've written so I decided to write a Hufflepuff/Slytherin story to dust off my keyboard. ;) I don't know how long or short this will be, but if you enjoy it or have any advice (be gentle though, I'm sensitive lol) please let me know!

Disclaimer: I own nothing so there's that.

Jessica Seek breathed in the smoky air and stared with horrified wonder at the great metal beast. It was gray and strong and waiting to whisk her away and drop her off in the middle of nowhere. Looking back, she wasn't quite sure how she got here. There had been hospitals and surgeries and the funeral and then suddenly there was Minerva McGonagall standing on her doorstep, hair tied in a strict bun and eyes sparkling with a sort of magic Jessie had never seen before. She walked briskly inside when Jessica timidly welcomed her, and sitting on the sofa she asked for her parents.

"Er . . . My dad is changing his clothes. Upstairs. In his room. Um. Can I get you anything . . .? Tea or-or something? I know how to use the kettle. And we have sugar cubes. Do you uh like sugar cubes?"

But Charles Seek had mercifully chosen that moment of terrible rambling to make his entrance. He had paused at the sight of the stranger in their home and taken a second to observe her odd sense of fashion, the dignified way she held herself, the ancient air she claimed as if she were much older than she looked or, at least, she had seen enough to add to her years.

After that it was a fog of long winded descriptions about a place called Hogwarts and people called wizards and witches. Jessie had been sure it was Isabelle Brown's idea of a joke. She was cruel any other day of the year; why not rub salt in Jess's still fresh wounds the day she wore all black and watched the coffin sink beneath the earth? But then McGonagall had pulled out a lean, crooked stick and muttered a few words and then silent blasts of red and golden fireworks were exploding into existence _inside her house._ They sparked and dazzled and formed strange shapes: a lion and an eagle, a serpent and a badger. It was fire that didn't burn, damage, destroy. And Jessie's throat closed at the sight and her heart skipped and she didn't realize she was crying until McGonagall was kneeling in front of her and telling her that it was okay, that she was special, that her magic— _Jessica Seek's magic_ —was not unnatural or frightful.

It was beautiful.

And then she was in Diagon Alley and she was realizing that this—all of this—was real and she was magic and the world really was wonderful despite its obvious flaws. Professor McGonagall helped her exchange her "Muggle" currency for the strange wizarding kind and then they walked through the stores buying books and cauldrons and funny little quills. McGonagall talked as they went along and Jessica was determined to soak in every word.

She learned that her new school "Hogwarts" had four "Houses." She wasn't quite sure how that worked, but when she closed her eyes, she saw the cabins from Percy Jackson's Camp Halfblood and her heart skipped a beat. Apparently, she would somehow be assigned to a House when she and the other First Years arrived. She could be Gryffindor where they were brave and selfless, but not necessarily arrogant. She could be Ravenclaw where they were smart and studious, but not necessarily obnoxious in their intellect. She could be in Hufflepuff where they were kind and friendly, but not necessarily ignorant. Or she could be in Slytherin where they were ambitious and cunning, but not necessarily evil. Jessica didn't know why her new teacher—er, _professor_ —felt the need to justify each House so staunchly but Jessica tucked the new information away and prayed that if this was all a dream, she would never wake up.

The remainder of summer was sluggish, silent, and lonely. Her father worked late and when he was home he committed himself to the telly or his bedroom. Jessica wandered the house aimlessly and in those moments when her heart sank or cracked or threatened to fail, she would pull her Hogwarts trunk out from under the bed and she would carefully unpack its contents, counting slowly as each item passed through her hand.

One black hat . . . three sets of "robes" . . . One set of glass phials . . . eight textbooks . . . and one glorious, perfect 9 inch Cherry Wood wand with a unicorn hair core.

She held the wand with a sober grip and sometimes muttered nonsense words in the desperate hope that something worth believing in might happen. It never did. It remained cold and useless in her hands. But she believed anyway.

On the first of September, Jessica woke early to pack, un-pack, and re-pack her trunk (just to be sure she wouldn't forget anything). She debated briefly wearing her robes to the platform, but she feared it might make her seem too professional and adult and she wanted the other kids to like her so she threw on the first outfit her fingertips brushed and pulled pulled _pulled_ her trunk to the living room.

Where she sat.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Jessica couldn't be quite sure, but she thought that maybe she had already graduated from Hogwarts by the time Charles came out of the bedroom, dressed and ready to go. The car ride was silent and uneventful (except for when Jessie couldn't stop fidgeting and her dad snapped at her and she had to apologize and try to keep her happiness under tight wraps). She jumped out of the truck almost before he had put it in park and yanked her trunk out from the bed while her dad got sluggishly out of his seat.

They walked side-by-side into the train station and Jessica chattered excitedly about the magic entrance to Platform 9 ¾ that Professor McGonagall had told her all about. Charles grunted vaguely and pushed her trunk in front of them and Jessie could _almost_ pretend that he was listening.

He didn't come with her through the super-secret-wizarding portal to Platform 9 ¾. When she asked, he stared at the brick wall with apathy and vague distrust. Jess wasn't sure he really understood what was happening or that he really believed in magic despite McGonagall's light show in their living room. But if she could just get him through with her, maybe they would see a fairy or a dragon or wizards flying about and he would _have_ to believe it . . . he'd have to believe her.

"I really should be headed home," he said gruffly instead and they stood there for one, two, three awkward beats of silence in which her heart hammered frantically in her chest, begging him to please please please come with her. But then he hugged her, really hugged her, for the first time since before the funeral and Jessie knew that this was goodbye. So she wrapped her arms around him too and when he abruptly pulled away and left without another word, she didn't feel quite as disappointed as she expected.

She was going to Hogwarts.

Grinning despite herself, Jessie wheeled her trolley around, stared at the very-solid brick wall and _ran._

Augustine Thornfield knew that he was destined for the emerald green Slytherin House. It wasn't just that his blood was pure (that didn't matter much to anyone now that You-Know-Who had been dead and discarded for two decades) or that his family had been Snakes for as long as anyone could remember (except Great Uncle Travis who was a Gryffindor and kept mostly to himself). He knew that he was a Slytherin because he had pride and motives and a 7 Year step-by-step plan to excel. He was sly too. He had successfully pulled more than a few pranks on his older, more experienced siblings throughout the years and he knew just the right way to act or speak to make his way law in their shared household.

So when other less-informed 11 year-old children asked him which House he hoped to be in, he didn't bother to respond. If they didn't know, they clearly hadn't been paying attention. Most of them, he was sure, would not be Ravenclaws. Maybe Lions where the people were rash and unthinking or Hufflepuff where they were stupid and naïve. Either or. It didn't matter much to Augustine.

He wasn't surprised when a letter arrived that summer addressed to Augustine P. Thornfield. He also wasn't surprised to read the words: "You have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." But he was, nevertheless, filled with all the boyish excitement that accompanied childish accomplishments and he ran straight to his mother's waiting arms where she swung him around and sang that embarrassing, ghastly Hogwarts school song. But just this once, Augustine didn't quite mind.

He thought he ought to have been allowed to shop for his school things alone, but his mother had other ideas. Though she had, at least, been kind enough to send his father off with the three eldest boys. It wasn't really that he didn't _like_ his family but . . . he knew his was an old name and it had certain dark ties to the last Wizarding War. His mum had not fought You-Know-Who's side but she hadn't fought the Order's either. He was assured regularly that his father had remained as neutral as she in the war but he wasn't quite sure if he believed it. He'd never seen his father in short sleeves, after all. And he knew there was a period right around Harry Potter's last few years at Hogwarts where his parents had separated.

Mostly Augustine tried not to think about it.

As for his brothers . . . well, it actually really was that he _didn't_ like them. He was big enough to admit that. Oliver was self-righteous (especially for a 13 year old with a majorly unfortunate acne problem), Thomas was loud and 15, and Ian was nice enough but oddly distant from the rest of the family (probably because he was a legal adult set to graduate in no time at all).

But it's not like he cared or anything.

Shopping took longer than expected and August might have been tempted to be bored if it wasn't for the simple fact that they were finally, finally, _finally_ buying _his_ Hogwarts robes, cauldrons, and books. His mum let him get the color changing ink and an extra just-for-fun reading book and even a double scoop ice cream cone ("Don't tell your brothers, love," she warned him with a wink).

His most favorite part of the whole day was visiting Olivander's. The old man had long retired but his grandson was young and fresh out of Hogwarts and, admittedly, not nearly as creepy as his predecessor had been. They made their way slowly through rows and rows of wands until August was given the 12 inch Ash Wood with a dragon heartstring core. For a moment, August's world came to a slow, steady halt. Time moved at half speed and some secret missing piece clicked into place. This was his wand. He knew that Olivander's grandson agreed when he looked up and saw the young man's approving smile.

After that they gathered the rest of the family (except Ian who had found some girl from his year and mumbled a vague excuse for staying behind while he followed the girl in a love-sick haze of absolutely disgusting puppy-dog eyes) and flooed home. The first thing August did after thanking his parents and dragging his trunk upstairs was to pull out his journal, flip to his 7 Year Plan and check off the first necessity:

\- Be accepted into and prepare for Hogwarts

He stared greedily at the next three-part assignment—which was to go to King's Cross Station/get on Platform 9 3/4/travel to the castle—and prepared for bed.

The summer passed in a relaxing whirlwind of wizarding chess against his mum, Quiddich against his brothers (until they got into an argument over some rule or another and only called truce after mum started crying), discussing his latest books with his father, and daydreaming about what was still to come.

August's mum woke him hurriedly on the morning of September 1st and dragged him to the kitchen table all the while screeching that they were running late. Oliver, of course, had been ready since before dawn and he stared down his nose at his unpunctual brothers and berated them for stressing Mum out while Thomas threw food at him when he wasn't looking and Ian ate his porridge in the same disgusting haze he'd been in since Diagon Alley.

Augustine swore then and there that he would never be as obnoxious, conceited, or foolishly in love as his brothers.

They arrived to Platform 9 ¾ with plenty of time to spare, just like Augustine knew they would. Every year, his mum screamed that they would be late and every year they were on time (if not early). August stood in his billowing wizard's robes and inhaled the familiar taste of smoke and coal. He reveled knowing that this time the great and wonderful Hogwarts Express was there for _him_. He looked up at the mighty metal beast and despite his annoyance with his brothers, his suspicions about his father, and his sudden sharp pain at the thought of leaving his mum behind, he smiled.

He was going to Hogwarts.


	2. The Hogwarts Express

**a/n Hello, friends! This one is a bit longer than the last chapter. I would love to hear your feedback! Do you guys have a preference for longer or shorter chapters? Do you care? Also, any comments/advice concerning this chapter and/or the story as a whole is so greatly appreciated! Reviews keep me motivated! :) I hope you enjoy chapter 2! I promise the adventure aspect will eventually kick in (I so far have up to Year Three planned).**

 **Disclaimer: I'm not cool enough to own this stuff.**

Jessie felt stupid. Not only was she the only person on the whole platform to show up all by herself, but she was the only one not in wizarding robes (except for a few scattered adults standing awkwardly with their magic children and staring in awe at the sea of black fabric). And just to add bitter icing to her overcooked cake of embarrassment, Jessica Seek had thrown on a bright poca-dot shirt and sunshine yellow leggings. She glanced behind her at the solid brick wall and wondered if it was too late to disappear back through it, run after Charles, and beg him to take her home. At the very least, maybe she could sink into the brick and become the magic entryway that young witches and wizards used every September 1st and she could watch them come and go and learn and fall in love and make mistakes and no one would ever know that Jessica Seek had ever even existed.

"Do you need help with your trunk?"

Jessie jumped at the sudden voice invading her thought process and turned to the newcomer. It was a girl. She hadn't yet grown into the length of her slender limbs or the bright green eyes that blinked out at her from behind a curtain of fiery red bangs. She smiled crookedly and gestured again to Jessie's trolley.

"My dad can lift it up," she offered.

Giving the girl a shy smile and praying that she would say or do just the right thing to make a friend, Jessie replied, "Yes, please. That would be great!"

Promptly, the girl turned on her heels and yelled over the commotion of mothers and fathers crying over their children, "DAD! COME HELP ME PLEASE!" A tall, dark haired man answered her almost immediately. He strode over, trying to look strict but very obviously amused by his daughter's rowdiness.

"Lily Flower," he scolded gently, "you have feet. Use them."

The girl—Lily—smiled sweetly and pointed at Jessie without seeming to notice the other girl's uncomfortable shyness. "This is—uh, sorry. What's your name?"

"Jessica." The name came out barely more than a whisper but Lily heard it anyway.

"Jessica. This is Jessica. She needs help with her trolley."

The man immediately, as if on instinct, looked around the nearby vicinity. Jess knew he was looking for a parent or, at the very least, a guardian. She also knew he wouldn't find one. A brief flare of choking anger burned and bubbled in her chest. He should have come. Her dad should have wanted to see her off. But just as quickly she dismissed the fire. It wouldn't change anything except her happy excitement to leave for Hogwarts.

Lily's father pushed his round spectacles up the bridge of his nose and smiled down at Jessie. There was something warm and understanding in the gentleness of his expression—as if he knew exactly what it was like to be abandoned at King's Cross Station. "I'll be glad to help," he told her and lifted the trunk with practiced ease. He disappeared into the train, supposedly to put it with everyone else's baggage.

"I'm Lily, by the way. Lily Potter." She said it as if she had resigned herself to some grand reaction to the revelation, as if Jessie should have known her.

Who knows, Jessie reflected, maybe if she had been raised in the Wizarding World, she would have recognized the name. Maybe Lily Potter was a child witch actress or model for magic potions and some such. Nevertheless, Jessie added her ignorance of Lily Potter's place in the world to her growing list of reasons she didn't belong there and embarrassing lapses of understanding.

"Nice to meet you," Jessie said instead, smiling her best I-Promise-I'm-Not-Stupid smile.

Lily's face fell into one of astonishment and delight. Her eyes jumped to Jessica's clothing and Jessie shrank under her piercing gaze. "You're Muggleborn!" Lily exclaimed, half-dancing in her excitement, as if she could think of nothing better.

Jessie nodded miserably and pulled her sweater sleeves over her hands. Muggleborn. Professor McGonagall had told her that magic children were born to non-magic parents all the time and that it by no means made then lesser, weaker, or unwelcome. But if that were true, Jessie would have known to dress in her school robes. She would have known exactly which films or advertisements Lily Potter had been in. Maybe she would have successfully gotten her wand to work all those times she mumbled quiet, frantic words to it in the dead of night.

But then Lily Potter—this random, strange girl—was hugging her and saying, "Oh, God bless you! You have no idea who I am! This is wonderful!" Despite the other girl's lankiness, her grip was crushing and she was somehow able to steer Jessie's nearly-limp body into an odd little happy dance.

"Uhm sorry," Jessie asked against the other girl's shoulder, "but why is this wonderful?"

Lily let her go at once and, smiling at Jessie like she was sunshine after a whole lot of rain, she said, "Oh, don't you worry about it. You and I are gonna be _very_ good friends for a _very_ long time."

"We are?" Jessica said in a daze.

Lily rolled her eyes and half-scoffed, half-laughed at Jessie's ignorant confusion. "Duh."

At that moment, Lily's father rejoined the girls. He brushed his hair away from his face absently, and Jessie caught sight of a faded, jagged scar slicing across the center of his forehead, almost as if he had been cut open and roughly sewn back together. It was like lightning, brief in its visibility but terribly obvious in its existence.

"Lily," he said, "come say goodbye to your mother. Al and James are already on board."

Jessie watched silently as her companion's face flushed with queasy readiness and her eyes locked on a freckle-faced woman standing with a bushy haired lady and a man that might have been Lily's uncle. As if something in her soul was instinctually tied to Jessica, Lily grabbed the Muggleborn's hand and said, "Will you come too?"

Jess squirmed uncomfortably and looked slowly between Lily's family. The sympathetic man who seemed to understand her situation without her ever having to say a word, the laughing woman leaning against her bushy friend while they simultaneously hit her indignant brother. They all seemed so in synch, so connected, so unified by their familial bonds. Subconsciously, Jess scanned the thinning crowd, watched the students climb aboard and wave to their reluctantly departing families, and felt a deep internal ache-like a cavity-for her father, her mother . . . her Jane.

"Please."

Jessica was mercifully pulled from that line of thought by Lily's soft words and nodded minutely. Smiling a little sadly, Lily lead them to her waiting mother. Immediately, Mrs. Potter threw her arms around the child, lifting her up as if she were much younger than she was and held her in a tight, motherly grasp while tears fell unchecked down her spotted cheeks, into her daughter's hair. Lily held on as if she were desperate to memorize the feel of her mother's hug and Jess felt that old familiar cavity, screaming and crying and resisting reality with every ounce of strength.

As the train screamed a warning, Lily pulled herself away, kissed her mum's cheek, and jumped to reach her dad's neck. Mr. Potter closed his eyes, furrowed his eyebrows, and fought against the salty liquid threatening to retreat down the length of his face. He let Lily go reluctantly, as if it took every bit of will power, as if whatever had given him that peculiar scar was not nearly so painful as letting his children grow up without his daily presence.

"Bye, Mum, Dad. Bye, Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron," Lily said, swiping a little angrily at her eyes and blushing with sudden embarrassment.

Her family responded in kind as Lily and Jessica hurried to climb the short metal stairs admitting them passage onto the train. The second they were safely inside, the metal beast lurched forward, exhaled a puff of smoke, and increasingly sped down the tracks. Lily glanced out the window as they lost sight of the platform and caught one last fleeting glimpse of her father's hand, still held stiffly in the air, one final goodbye.

Jessica stared too and felt something inside of her lift, twirl, delight in her severance from the world she had known. She was on her way. Whatever trouble she dealt with at home, whatever misfortune, whatever loss no longer mattered. She was going to become a witch. A real life magic-bearer. She was speeding toward her new, uncertain life at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and felt comforted that it had to, at least, be better than everything she left behind.

"Let's go find a compartment," Lily suggested, suddenly cheery eyed and bouncing with excited butterflies. She skipped down the aisle, glancing in the rooms as she passed, and Jess couldn't help but follow in the same manner. They laughed and danced their way through the Hogwarts Express, listening to music only they heard, and every so often belting a random, unexplained lyrical sentence ("If sparrows can fly so CAN I-I-I-I! Yeah!).

Lily finally stopped before a compartment door and motioned for Jess to join her. Inside, a strawberry blonde girl sat, staring idly out the window. The green and flowery scenery reflected in her gray eyes. The inanimate fields seemed to fly through her with the intensity of human emotion. She smiled softly and fiddled absently with her uniform tie (which reminded Jess that she desperately needed to change).

Without a word passing between them, Jessica Seek and Lily Potter knew that this was their compartment, that this was their friend. As they slid the door open and stepped inside, Jess was filled with a sense of rightness, like coming home after a long day at school. She looked at Lily and the girl (who hadn't yet acknowledged their presence) and felt sure that, if soul mates existed, these two new friends were hers.

Lily helped herself to the seat directly across from the girl and Jessica shyly joined her side. Still, the girl did not falter, look up, or otherwise express any sign of recognition in her sudden company. Jess shared a look with Lily and shrugged helplessly. Maybe she had been wrong, maybe the girl didn't want any friends, maybe she had only imagined their instant connection to one another.

"Hello?" Lily said uncertainly. The girl didn't move. Frustrated, Lily waved her hand rapidly in front of the stranger's face. "I said 'HELLO!'" With a sudden intake of breath, the girl startled-as if she had truly been ignorant to their presence-and stared at the two girls, wide eyed and blinking.

"What are you?" Lily snapped. "Deaf?"

A smile teased the corners of the girl's mouth and she quickly reached into the bag resting at her feet. From within, she extracted a Muggle whiteboard on which she scribbled the following response: _'Actually, yes.'_

The color drained from Lily's face as she realized the bluntness of her question, but the girl waved her off good naturedly. _'It's okay,'_ she wrote. _'Sorry for the confusion.'_

"No, we're sorry for our assertiveness," Jess jumped in quickly. "I'm Jessica Seek and this is Lily Potter."

At the sound of the former girl's name, their new acquaintance dropped her jaw and stared blankly at the red head for a second too long before she seemed to push away her surprise. _'I'm Elizabeth Wright. You can call me Elly or Elle or Ella or Lizzie or Liz. I will literally answer to anything.'_

Laughing, Jess, Lily, and Elizabeth settled in for the remainder of their trip to Hogwarts. Their discussion was filled with magic and wonder and impossible realities and as Jessie looked around their compartment, she felt-maybe for the first time since the funeral-truly happy to be alive.

* * *

Augustine stood on Platform 9 3/4 and pretended not to care as his mum said her tearful goodbyes to him and his brothers. He listened to her prattle on about how it was her Ian's last year and Thomas would be next and Oliver was actually old enough to take Hogsmeade visits and now she was sending away her baby too.

Ian smiled down at her with patient fondness and kissed her cheek. "Christmas will be here before you know it, Mum," he assured her warmly. "And we'll make sure Auggie doesn't get in _too_ much trouble until then."

Oliver rolled his eyes at their eldest brother. "Speak for yourself," he grumbled, his overly large nose stuck high in the air. "I'm not a babysitter."

"Mind your mother," Dad snapped irritably. September 1st always put Father in a bad mood (probably because Mum dragged him out of bed and forced him to accompany them to the station).

"Mum, I just saw Travis!" Thomas pointed to the other Fifth Year student and asked, in his too-loud voice, if he could go. This, of course, set Mum into a new fit of salty crocodile tears, but she pulled her son in for one last goodbye and excused him anyway.

"Me as well," Oliver said and disappeared into the train before she could cause a scene at his departure too. He was, after all, thirteen now. He couldn't just let his mum hug him in front of everybody. Augustine rolled his eyes at the stupidity of his brothers and glanced away, uninterested, as Mum and Dad spoke to Ian about something or another.

And then he saw her. She was all alone, standing awkward and afraid, next to the magic entrance connecting their world to that of the Muggles. Instead of generic black school robes, she was in an oddly colored Muggle outfit that was just bright enough to hurt his head. With shaking fingers, she pushed a lock of curly brunet hair away from her tanned face and stared with vivid longing at the brick directly behind her.

August had always been of the opinion that girls were pretty much useless. He was faster than them, he was stronger than them, and he was funnier than them. All the little girls that came around his house during one of his parents' many parties, wore fluffy dresses and stupid braids and they didn't even like Quidditch. All they wanted to do was sit about and talk. It was gross. He just didn't see a point in them.

And yet. . . he felt himself turn toward the girl and take a step, and another, and ano-

Lily Potter ruined everything. Or maybe saved him. He wasn't sure which. But she seemed to have noticed the lonely First Year at the exact same moment August had, because she stepped in front of her and loudly offered her father's help in lifting her trunk. The other girl's face melted into a pool of relieved anxiety as she smiled politely.

"Auggie."

He turned toward his name to find his mother staring at him with her wide watery eyes. Ian was gone-probably to find that girl from Diagon Alley-and his dad stared at the Hogwarts Express with distant yearning. Their goodbye was too long and too short all at the same time. Augustine loved his mother and, despite his mature eleven years of life, he had never been very far from her or his dad. But he had dreamed of Hogwarts from his first remembrance and even as the little boy inside him resisted the necessity of leaving his mum behind, something else tugged, pulled, called him onward. And he followed it with diligent determination.

He didn't watch his parents until the train turned a corner and they were lost to him. He was really too old for such childish sentiment. Walking purposely down the aisle, he ignored the nervous turning of his stomach and the unsteady beat of his heart. Quickly, he found an empty compartment and slipped inside the safety of his own solitude where he quietly relieved his pack (which his mum definitely hadn't packed for him) of his thick limited edition Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

The peace lasted approximately five minutes and twenty-seven seconds.

Enter David.

Davey Hopkins was the son of purebloods. As such, he and Augustine had been raised side-by-side in the same world. The Hopkins family was always invited to the Thornfield house parties, as Mrs. Hopkins and August's mum were friends from their Hogwarts days. This inevitably lead to the crossing of David's and Augustine's paths from infancy. However, their relationship (a word August would use quite loosely) was shallow at best and non-existent in honest reality. While his parents hosted and his brothers socialized or attempted to flirt with their girl classmates, August sought the first possible opportunity of escape and seized it. Thus, most evenings for him were spent in his room reading books or listening to music or politely asking his favorite House Elf, Ginger, to sneak him up some food and drink.

It wasn't really that he had anything against David and the other children who were dragged by their parents to the Thornfield's rather lame adult-centered social gathering. August just preferred his own company to that of anyone else. In those short moments before he could make his great escape from the party, he observed the other children and stockpiled information for potential later use. He knew, for example, that David was socially awkward, an avid reader (mostly of fiction), and that he spouted useless pieces of knowledge no body asked for when he didn't know what else to say.

So when Augustine's compartment door slid open to reveal the blond, slightly overweight Hopkins child, August was admittedly annoyed.

"Um," Davey coughed nervously. "Can I-er-Can I sit with you? There's really no where else..."

Narrowing his eyes and wondering if there was an insult hidden somewhere between those lines, Augustine gave a single curt nod and returned immediately back to his book. David shuffled forward, his robes ruffling together as he made his clumsy entrance and sat just across from Augustine.

"What're you reading?" David asked, leaning forward to catch a peak. "Ah, Newt Scamander. He was a Hufflepuff, y'know. Lots of people think he was a Gryff but that's not true. He also married an American woman from Ilvermorny. Bit of a strange bloke, really."

August glanced up from his reading and made eye contact with his parasite for just long enough to relay his message of Please-Leave-Me-Alone. David flushed and seemed to realize his own annoying habits.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm just a bit nervous. How do you think we'll be Sorted? What House do you think you'll be in? I heard the castle is actually quite dangerous and I reckon it's true. I mean, look at Harry Potter. The guy's the bloody savior of the Wizarding World and he was attacked just about every year he attended school. I-right. Sorry."

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Augustine internally reminded himself that ambition meant next to nothing without a bit of self-control and slowly lowered his book. Clearly, he wasn't going to learn much more about Hippogriffs and Thestrals with David Hopkins sitting in his compartment.

"I don't know how we will be Sorted, but I'm a Slytherin and that's where I will be. As long as McGonagall is there, we'll be safe. She fought and survived both Wizarding Wars against intolerant bigotry."

David nodded eagerly and sat forward. "I think I'd like to be a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. I'm not really the brave or cunning sort."

"Clearly." The word slipped out before Augustine was even aware that he had thought it. Feeling rather aghast at his own daring, August did the closest thing to an apology he could possibly manage. "What Houses were your parents in?"

David didn't seem put off by Augustine's rudeness and false interest in his family heritage. He smiled and shook his head, as if he thought the other boy to be ridiculous, and said, "My mum is a Gryffindor and my dad is a Ravenclaw."

August was saved from having to think of a response by the arrival of a lady pushing the candy trolley past their room. "Can I get you something, dears?" she said in a sickly sweet voice.

Augustine and David jumped to their feet in eager unison and laughed as they tripped and shoved each other out of the way in their impatience to satisfy sudden sweet cravings. When they returned to their seats, they were burdened with every kind of rot-your-teeth-out treat. They dumped their selections on the seats and before August really knew what had happened, they were sitting together, trading undesired pieces and laughing at ugly witches and wizards on their Chocolate Frog cards ("That's you," they told each other, fighting to find the least attractive faces in the sea of heroic Harry Potters and powerful Albus Dumbledores).

Nothing brought two kids together quite like sweets.


	3. The Sorting Ceremony

**a/n Um. Oops. It has been a** ** _really_** **long time since I updated this story. I'm so sorry for the wait! Life got crazy and then I forgot my sign in. Let me know what you think of this next chapter! I hope it was at least partially worth the wait.:)** **Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own this material. *shrugs***

When the boats rounded the corner and Jessie Seek caught sight of Hogwarts for the first time, she let out a loud breath of surprised air and grabbed hold of Lily's and Ella's hands on either side of her. It's beautiful gray stone walls, the perfect points of the tower roofs, the grand doorway up ahead . . . it was nothing short of a fairy tale.

"Are you _crying_?" Lily's face was twisted in a show of concern and distaste, like she couldn't imagine that negative emotions would exist in the same space as the magical school she had spent her life dreaming of.

Jessica wiped furiously at her cheeks and offered her new friend what she hoped to be a carefree, reassuring smile. But when she took a breath, something inside of her shifted, like all the broken shards of her heart were moving around and poking at her lungs.

Jane would have loved this. The thought was born before Jessie was even aware that it had been conceived. She had spent the entire summer avoiding the emptiness of the room next to hers, carefully tiptoeing around her father's grief, viciously shoving Jane's name and face and personality into a tight little box in the darkest corner of her mind. It wasn't fair to Jane, to try to forget so easily, to smile and laugh and discover magic as if she hadn't just . . .

Her eyes fell closed, blocking the elaborate castle from view as the little boat heaved with the lake's gentle waves. Hogwarts was a new beginning for her. One day. One day she would unpack that box and revisit that room and confront her father. One day her smile and laughter wouldn't feel so forced. But for now, for now, Jane could not follow her to Hogwarts. She needed to keep moving.

The hand she had forgotten she was holding gently tightened its grip on her. Opening her eyes, Jessica saw Elizabeth staring back at her. The smile on her face was small and warm and her baby blues filled suddenly with hot salted liquid, as if she somehow shared in Jessie's hurt-even without knowing the specific details. Not a word passed between them, of course, but Jessie felt suddenly as though she weren't quite alone as she had perceived herself to be. The smile came a little easier then as the boat thudded against the shore and Lily leaped from her seat, scrambling to be closer to the castle, and waving frantically for Jessica and Elizabeth to join her.

Standing sandwiched in between these two girls whom she had only just met, whom she already somehow loved, Jessie craned her neck back to take in the full expanse of her new school. The setting sun hit the architecture at just the right angle to cast an imposing, overwhelming shadow across the anxious children, blinding them with the last of its rays. Jessie reminded herself to breathe.

"Come along, chil'ens. Yer right on time."

The sight of a burly, giant man caught Jessie off guard. He was big enough that he probably wouldn't have fit through her front door back home and a good portion of his face was hidden behind a curly brown bush of a beard. She took an instinctive step backward, uncertainty clawing at her from inside. What had she gotten herself into? She glanced back where they had came from. Was it too late to-but the boats were gone, already halfway across the lake (though no one accompanied them to row).

"Great," she mumbled half to herself. But when she turned back to the man, she saw that Lily was running up to give him a hug.

"Ruby!" she called, jumping high to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Lily! It's good t' see yer!" Though his voice was as deep and loud as Jessie had anticipated, there was warmth in his beetle black eyes as he set Lily back on her feet. "How's meh favorite goddaughter?"

"Ready for the Sorting, of course!" she answered him, taking his hand in her own. "I suspect I'll be a Lion. Just like Mum and Dad."

"I'm sure yeh will be, Lily," and he was sincere.

"Oh! Ruby, These are my new friends! Ella and Jessie. This is my goddad Rubeus Hagrid."

Elizabeth, who had evidently been lip reading their introduction, stepped forward and extended her hand. She smiled pleasantly and Jessie followed suit.

"It's good t' meet yeh both! Excited for Hogwarts, I s'spect." He pulled what appeared to be a pocket watch out of the fold of his jacket and glanced at it briefly. "Blimey! We bes' be gettin' a move on it, Firs' Years!" This time he spoke to address the whole sea of nervous adolescents. Most of them seemed as apprehensive of the man as Jessie, but a few waved frantic hellos and called out his name. He individually acknowledged each of these students as he ushered them up a short set of stairs and to a doorway. Jessie looked up at him and smiled, deciding that she liked him and that she was ashamed of her initial reaction to his stature.

Hagrid lead them through the entrance and had them stop, single file, in front of what he told them was the Great Hall ("That's where we eat," Lily mumbled at Jessie's visible perplexity). The wait from there was short but the seconds dragged on impossibly as they anticipated the beginning of the "sorting ceremony."

Jessie felt sick. What if she didn't belong to any of the Houses? What if there was a mistake? Would they send her back? Could she survive that? She was only eleven. Going home would mean at least seven more years in that empty house, trying not to get in her father's way. Her stomach lurched. No. Even if there was a mistake, even if Headmistress McGonagall kicked her out of this wonderfully scary new place, she would not go home. Her resolve solidified, hardening like cement in her chest, and for a second she couldn't breathe.

And then the great set of doors in front of them lurched forward, parting to reveal a long narrow walkway in between four tables filled with hundreds of children in scarlet, emerald, yellow, or blue robes. The First Years shuffled after Hagrid, coughing and clearing their throats to mask the crimson tint of their embarrassed cheeks.

The Headmistress greeted them kindly and launched herself into what felt like a very long welcoming speech. Not a single word registered with Jessie as she stood with Elizabeth in front of her and a boy she didn't know behind her. She felt unsteady. She felt sick.

 _Please,_ she silently begged McGonagall, _please hurry and get it over with._

As if she had heard Jessie's plea, McGonagall clapped her hands and said, "May the Sorting commence!"

August was distracted. Somehow, after the candy trolley left their compartment, he had found himself talking to _David Hopkins_ as though they were friends, as though August hadn't spent the last eleven years of life strategically avoiding him. He wasn't even sure how it had happened. One moment he was telling the kid to mind his own bloody business and the next thing he knew they were trading sweets. Now, standing in the Great Hall, when he should have been mesmerized by the magic ceiling or shy under the smirking gazes of the older Years, he was busy ignoring the continuous noise of Davey Hopkins rambling in his ear about how nervous he was for the Sorting.

But, in truth, that wasn't even the most distracting thing about the whole ordeal.

The Muggleborn girl from the Platform was literally right in front of him. She had discarded her blinding ensemble for the standard black robes of a proper witch. Up close, he could see that her skin wasn't tan at all; it was brown. And her dark hair was so curly it almost looked unpresentable. Almost. She was shifting her weight from foot to foot and reaching up to finger a piece of jewelry-maybe a necklace-in an offhand sort of way that told him she wasn't even aware of her doing it. In front of her was Elizabeth Wright-a girl his father had told him about; apparently she was the start of some new inclusion movement at Hogwarts-and the loud, opinionated, really rather annoying Lily Potter.

He didn't know why his attention was so diverted by this Muggle. It wasn't that he thought the classification was below him or anything. It was just that she didn't look particularly different from any other eleven year old girl he had seen. And yet. The Sorting Ceremony was now in full swing and he was struggling to listen for his name. His eyes were trained, unwavering on her full head of curls, waiting for a name to be said and for her to respond to it.

August was vaguely aware of David's name being called and the nervous boy walking on visibly shaking legs up to where the Headmistress stood waiting. The Hat was placed firmly on Davey's head and promptly fell over his eyes; it sat there thinking for a moment too long before it called out in a decisive manner, "RAVENCLAW!"

Mia Ibbs was Gryffindor.

Dudley Jenkins was Hufflepuff.

Ethan Kent was Slytherin.

Michael Lemons, Henry Lakewells, Sarah Manshaw . . . On and on the list went.

Lily Potter, to absolutely no one's surprise, was Gryffindor, and on her way to the table Elizabeth and the girl each gave her a high five. Watching, his own hand tingled and he shook his head. _Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Disgusting, even. What's wrong with me? I'm acting like-ew-Ian._

But then-"Seek, Jessica."

And the girl's breath hitched and she-Jessica-was moving and his eyes were on her. She looked clammy and ill as she took her seat. Her knee bounced loudly, idly, anxiously as the Hat found its way on her head. It spoke to her for a long time, longer than anyone, but whatever it was saying seemed to give her some kind of comfort because part way through, she stopped shaking. Eventually, just when even McGonagall began to look impatient, the old dusty fabric shifted and a single word rang out: "HUFFLEPUFF!" When the Hat was lifted off her head, he thought he saw Jessica swipe at a tear on her cheek, but when he looked again her face was dry and he supposed he had imagined it.

Augustine watched her find a place with her House somewhat disappointedly. He must have looked too long though because she raised her head and looked right back at him. His heart stopped and for the first time in his life he went stupid enough to give Thomas a run for his money. For one, two, three seconds he didn't move and her eyebrows fell in confusion. He looked away scowling.

 _What. Is. Wrong. With. Me?_ He decided he would not look at her again the entire ceremony and all throughout dinner. He was here to learn and grow strong and make something out of himself. He had a plan. And Jessica Seek was _not_ a part of it.

"Thornfield, Augustine."

The sound of his name shook him awake and he strode, head high and confident (just the way Dad had taught him). He didn't hesitate or shake like the other children. His nervous energy was bundled tightly inside his gut, never to be seen or felt by anyone except himself. . . And maybe the Sorting Hat.

The world went dark as the Hat-which smelled of dust bunnies and cheap shampoo-fell over his face.

"Ah," a small voice murmured in his ear, "Another Thornfield, I see. You come from a very long line of Slytherins. And yes, I see you have ambition, young one-lots of it. Maybe too much."

"You can never have too much ambition," August muttered back. "My father taught me that."

Strangely, the Hat seemed to laugh at his insertion, the fabric shuddering against his head in what seemed to be silent chuckles. "Ah, yes. Your father the Death Eater. A wise choice of role model you've chosen."

Was the Hat . . . being _sarcastic_? Angry indignation burned in Augustine's chest and despite his doubts-his fear that he knew better-he whispered back furiously, "My father was _not_ a Death Eater."

"Oh, now, child. Don't go getting impulsive on me now; I'd have to stick you with the Cubs in Gryffindor." Before Augustine could even think about protesting, the Hat continued. "No, I see that Slytherin is where you will thrive and Slytherin is where you shall be."

His chosen House's name rang out in the Great Hall and seemed to echo inside his heart as McGonagall pulled the Sorting Hat away from him. This time, he shook just a little as he made his way, beaming in pride, to the table from which all three of his brothers clapped and yelled their approval. Ian pat him squarely on the back-"I'm proud of you, brother"-and Thomas threw a green rubber snake at him-"Good on ya, mate"-and even Oliver inclined his head, offering a rare smile. But Augustine took his seat and pretended not to care.

Eventually-after Elizabeth Wright had joined Jessica Seek at Hufflepuff and August broke his promise just long enough to see Jessie's face crumble in relief-the Sorting came to an end and a feast manifested itself before all four Houses.

August kept mostly to himself, silently observing the other Slytherin First Years as they piled their plates high and made stunted small talk with each other. Ian made an effort at conversation but August wasn't in the mood to talk and eventually he gave up and left to find his girl. After everyone had eaten their fill of dinner and desert, the food disappeared and McGonagall dismissed the students to follow their Prefects to the dormitories.

August shuffled along at the back of the group, walking at his own pace, and marveling at the reality that he was finally at Hogwarts. Laying in his bed that night, listening to the even breaths of his sleeping roomates, he smiled and pulled the blankets up tight under his chin.

He breathed in. He breathed out.

Everything was going according to plan.


End file.
